TF2 A scouts tale: Chapter 1 Simple Beginning's
by Yamisyaoran
Summary: The beginning to a long series that's been running in my head. Here we meet the scout, and how it all begins


TF2 Fanfiction

A Scout's Tale: Chapter 1

Simple Beginings...

Sigh. Another day, another loss for Red. It wasn't like this was the first time. But today, he only managed to get 3 kills, and they were just luck. In all truth, he was just a bad scout, and not for lack of trying, ether. Something must have messed up in the Scout spawner. Somewhere along the line. It wasn't unheard of, of course. There were GLITCHES, after all. You know, where at least one of the copies come out strange, like, you know, female? Luckily, he wasn't THAT kind of glitch. But something had to be wrong. That or he was just unlucky. His team was no better. The badlands was a place that most bad classes ended up, along with some good ones to try and even out the difference. His team consisted of a Heavy, two Fem-Scouts, a Spy, Pyro, Fem-Pyro, a Medic, a Engineer, and him. Now, normaly a team would work together right? Nope. Not this one, at least not with him. Seeing how bad he was, most of the others left him alone. The female Scouts teased him as well, and always where he could hear.

Now, I know you're wondering, "Well, this guy must be a sack of shit, or must have the hardest mental breakdown known to man." Well, normally you would be right. But, out of all of this, one person stayed at his side. The Engie, that cowboy steak-loving son-of-a-gun, never gave up on the Scout. Whenever he was down, the coyboy would listen, and even share one of his beers with the Scout. He was the one thing that kept him sane from all the abuse. And today was no exception, because like always when they lost, he was the prime target.

"Scout is baby! Make team lose!" Oh great, here was Heavy, the large russian man before him blocking his path into the red spawn. "How is Scout so bad, kill 3 baby men, but get killed 12 times!"

"Ya know, big guy, that isn't that bad. I'm surprised you can even count that high," he retorted slightly with a smile. "But yeah, you're right, a kill every 4 deaths isn't that bad."

"Wrong! 12 dead, not big surprise. You dead, heh well..." the Heavy sniffed and smirked wide as if he had made the biggest joke in the world.

"Hey, leave the li'l sport alone, will ya? Don't ya got a sandwich to be fillin' that fat ass of yours with?" Just like that, a savior was born. Looking behind him, up came Engie all decked out. The Engie, like most classes nowadays, customized themselves with gear or hats they acquired though trade, or simply bought with the credits they earned in the fights. The more you killed, the more over your base class rate you get. Now, the Engie was one of the first thousand Engies, so most on the team rightfuly respected him. He was like that cool grandpa ya wish you had. The Engie was rocking a metalist's dream of hair on his head, **a** scoutch saver like **beard,** and a pipboy on his left arm. His right hand was gone, lost somehow in right to the wars or a glitch no one knew, but a heavily-modified robotic one took its place, or at least it looked heavily modified. In his hand and over his shoulder was his trusty rifle, "The Rescue Ranger", which kinda didn't fit in with his fighting style, but never stoped him from headshotting a sniper, or stopping a scout in his tracks.

"But Scout.." The Heavy began until he was cut off with a single look from Engie. The Heavy huffed and turned, heading toward his locker. Leaving the two alone, the femscouts took that time to walk in as well, giggling about something that was probably another private joke on the male Scout's account.

"Thanks," Scout said as he too entered in time with the cowboy. The Engineer smiled and nodded a bit.

"Don't let him get to ya, boy. The big man is nuthin' but a teady bear. Trust me."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the one of the first hundred Scouts," the Scout replied sarcasticly, shaking his head.

"Well, all of us are diffrent, boy, but we all come from the same crow. So, ya know it ain't all that bad."

"Just like him to find the good in everything. What kept this old coot going," the Scout thought to himself as he watched him for a moment before putting away his trusty Sandman into his locker and eyed it. His favorite weapon would lay there, now beat up. Hell, running a hand over it might give splinters! Scorch marks lined it from the earlier battles.

"I saw how ya hit those flares to the side. That was some swinging you got there."

"Heh, yeah well. Melee is the only thing i got going for me," the scout replied. "Can't hit anything with a gun."

"Yeah, I know. Though, three kills you got where all from yer Sandman."

"You saw that, huh," he would ask toward the Engie as his shoulders lowered in dismay.

"There ain't nothing I don't see going around in the badlands, son. But hey, it isn't that bad. But yer Sandman isnt gunna hold up for much longer, the way it's going... Here, tell ya what..." The Engie reached into his locker and pulled out an almost jet-black stick with an orange rounded stone that looked almost amber-like would be set atop of it. Protruding from the stone in almost random positions would look like the same style of black hard wood was burrowing out of the stone.

"Holy, a Sun on a Stick! Where did you-? Why?!" The Scout would eye the weapon being offered to him.

"Well, I can't use it, that's why. Not fast enough."

"That's a lie," he would say, eyeing the Engie with a raised brow. He took the stick, swinging it a few times. "I've seen you pull out that Sapper of yours and hit a guy faster then I can blink."

"Yeah, well. Quickdraw is diffrent from swingin', boy. Dun' forget that," the Engie said with that of smile of his, but he then frowned. "Actually, I've decieded to help ya out a bit."

"You're always helping me out."

"That's not what I mean, Sya." The Scout's eyes opened a bit and turned towards the Engie. Not once had the old man ever said his chosen name. The names of this world was always set in stone. Your name was your war area, the war area number, and your clone spawn number. For him, it was Badlands 32 #3275. The name that the Engie just droped was a name he chose for himself after a couple months and trying to decide who he was. "I'm not gunna be in the Badlands for much longer."

That made Sya stop mid-swing in surprise, gears turning in his head. "You're being transfered," he said softly as he turned to eye the Engie now brushing his dark raven hair.

"More like retired. I'm going to Suijin, and we all know that nothing really happens there," he would say softly, still frowning. "Guess my fighting days are over, but that don't mean I can't teach ya a few things on my way out."

Sya kept looking at the Engie in mock suprise at his announcement. Suijin was a dream come true. The japanese setting was more peaceful than war-torn like most of the other maps. To go there, or one of the many other copys was a dream come true! He didn't know whether to feel proud or jealous of his freind going to such a place. Hell, they even had their own dorms on site! "That's amazing! Good job, man!" He then sighed, sadness kicking in. His only friend was leaving him. And when he was gone, all hell would break loose. He soon snapped out of it as a hand touched his shoulder. The Engie, as if knowing what was on his mind, smirked.

"I got another gift for ya. You are the only scout I know that doesn't live with his mama. You make yourself your own man, boy, and that's something to be proud of. Also, now that we are alone, I can train ya. I got a few months to kick ya into shape." He was right. Sya looked around to find they where indeed alone. Everyone else had already ported out to the central hub, no doubt to collect their reward for the day, as well as payout. "And while I'm doing that, ya gunna live at my place. After all, once I leave, it's yours." This made Sya's jaw drop. He stared at the long-haired Engie as he walked toward the door. "Come on, boy, we got work to do," he said as he walked out of the shutter. All Sya could do was stand there speechless.


End file.
